The Best Cure
by sdbubbles
Summary: When Janeway and Chakotay return to the ship, one becomes ill and one does not. One suffers and one is perfectly healthy. But how can they stop the suffering? What is the best cure?


**A/N: Hey, everyone! This is my first Star Trek: Voyager fic, so I hope it's alright. This story also draws on a lot of my own experiences, and centres on Janeway all the way through.**

**I hope you all think it's OK!**

**Sarah x**

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Captain Kathryn Janeway and Commander Chakotay found themselves back on the ship, after finding themselves stranded on a planet with an exceedingly thin oxygen supply in the atmosphere. Kathryn had found herself becoming increasingly anxious about getting back to her ship – this planet was extremely well protected by alien ships.

But they had managed to get her and Chakotay back, and were checked over by the Doctor to ensure the thin air hadn't caused them any lasting damage. And then it was back to the bridge for them. Business as usual.

Except it wasn't. Kathryn still felt anxious, even though she was back in charge of her ship, where she belonged. As she guided her crew through space, and cared for their welfare, she found herself constantly on edge, dreading something would go wrong. That thy would be attacked out of nowhere. That everything would fall apart around her. It felt awful, and she soon realised just how much time she spent alone in her quarters, doing nothing but wishing to get rid of the anxiety and fear.

After a fortnight of this, she became restless. Staying up at all hours for the simple reason that she could not force herself to sleep. And when she did manage it, she was plagued with dreams of the people around her coming to harm, lifeless on the floor.

She stopped eating, and that did not go unnoticed by Neelix. He was lucky to get her to eat a full meal three times a week. She just had no appetite at all. When he tried to convince to eat one day, she became very irritable. "I will eat when I am hungry, Neelix. And when I am hungry, I will be sure to let you know," she snapped at him, walking away and leaving him to stare after her in a dazed fashion. She felt guilty for talking to him like that; he was, after all, only trying to keep her healthy; but she didn't want someone to force her to eat when she wasn't in the mood for it.

But now that she thought on it, she wasn't in the mood for much of anything in the past few weeks. She slept and gave orders. She felt nothing but fear that the worst would happen, and irritability when someone checked up on her. She was sitting with a cup off strong black coffee – the thing that kept her living recently - in the mess hall when Chakotay approached her, sitting opposite her.

"Commander," she greeted him stiffly, with a desire to keep him out. "Can I help you?"

"Captain, everyone on the ship is concerned about you. Are you sure you're alright?" he asked her gently. She did know what he was getting at. Her lack of passion. Her lack of appetite. Her constant tiredness. The fear in her eyes she saw every time she saw her own face. She knew something was amiss. She just didn't particularly have a desire to admit it, to herself or anyone else.

"I can assure you, I am absolutely fine," she replied, emotionless, but it just made him frown more. She glared at him, wanting to keep him out. This kind of despair was almost familiar to her. She had felt like this before, when her father died. But she wasn't always in bed; she was getting up, controlling her ship, trying to find a safe way back home. The passion was gone, though. She went about her business, giving commands and fighting the battles, but never really feeling much when they succeeded.

"That's it," he sighed, shaking his head. "I'm taking you to see The Doctor."

"You will do no such thing, Commander Chakotay," she cautioned him, in her strictest, most authoritative tone. But, of course, he did not bow down to her. He simply ignored her, and moved around to her side. Discreetly, so no-one else in the mess hall noticed, he took her arm and forced her t her feet. She jerked her arm away from him, glaring at him, daring him to fulfil his promise of making her go to Sick Bay.

He was not going to bow out of this, and she sighed. She looked into his face, and asked flatly, "If I go to The Doctor and prove there is nothing wrong with me, will you leave me alone?"

"_If_ he says there is nothing wrong, and you answer all his questions honestly," he clarified with the ghost of a smile gracing his lips. He knew her too well, she realised. More than once had she defied The Doctor and went to lead her crew when she was supposed to be resting in Sick Bay. So she led him to Sick Bay, with an air of impatience around her that was tainted ever so slightly by the fear of what The Doctor could discover.

So she sat on a table, while The Doctor monitored her vital signs and studied her body chemistry. When he frowned, she knew something really was up with her. "There appears to be a very slight chemical imbalance," he informed her. "It is known to be the cause of anxiety, and depression."

Depression. The diagnosis she'd been both expecting and dreading. He then had took on the look of someone who had just realised something incredible. He scanned Chakotay, and frowned again. "Commander Chakotay has exactly the same imbalance, and yet he does not show the symptoms you do." He paused a moment, before he continued. "I believe that there was a chemical in the atmosphere of the planet you were stranded on a few weeks ago."

"Then why do I have none of these symptoms?" Chakotay demanded, gesturing to Janeway. The Doctor thought on it for a second before answering him.

"Have you ever suffered depression, Commander?"

Chakotay shook his head in silence.

"Captain?"

She reluctantly nodded her head, saying nothing. There was nothing more she could say. "Well," continued The Doctor. "I get the impression that this imbalance only really affects those prone to depression, or who have suffered from it before. That would be why you seem to be showing symptoms, while Commander Chakotay is perfectly fine."

"And what can you do about it?" she asked of him, trying to hide her upset at the diagnosis she knew she was sure to receive. She was just thankful it had a reason. A physical reason.

"Anti-depressants, but I don't think it is wise considering this was caused by the atmosphere of an alien planet. There may be more chemicals that I have not been able to pick up on, and it would not be helpful to mess with your brain chemistry if that is the case," he explained to her calmly.

"So you can't do anything?" she supplied with impatience. Brilliant. So she was stuck like this for the rest of her life, was she.

"I'm afraid, Captain, the best cure for depression is the same as it was four hundred years ago: friendship, love and support," he told her.

She felt Chakotay's hand on her shoulder at this news, and she ran her hands over her face. She stood up with a sense of false confidence. She would not allow her crew to know the extent of this problem, and neither Chakotay nor The Doctor needed told to keep it quiet.

"I have survived depression before, and I can do it again," she told them. The only problem was, she didn't know if she really believed that. After all, how was she meant to survive this time, if she couldn't let it show?

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**Hope it's alright!  
Please leave a review and tell me what you thought!  
Sarah x**


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